


L.I.O.N. Pride

by John_Steiner



Series: L.I.O.N.I.S.E. [2]
Category: Fantasy - Fandom, distant future - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:07:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: A knight among the Reg people, Sir Irn is attended to by a smaller greenish elfin page boy named Wren. Irn recounts his experience fighting a far weightier breed of man, and marvels at Wren's eagerness for his own people to help. Prepared to present himself before Lord Daros, Sir Irn considers how ensure Wren's recognition and praise as his page.
Series: L.I.O.N.I.S.E. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635547





	L.I.O.N. Pride

"How is that, Sir Irn?" the the elfen green-hued Jung servant asked, "Is the fit right?"

"Yes, thank you Wren," the darker shade of Reg man, with clean-shaven scalp, named Irn replied.

"The bluing of your armor turned out so magnificent," Wren marveled, "But does it not make you stand out?"

"We fight our battles a bit differently from the Jung," Irn said, "In your people's lands concealment and speed are the basis of ambush warfare. In the open plains and shallow slopes a--," Irn paused to rephrase it in his mind, "different art of war must be practiced."

"What is that art?" Wren asked, as he went for Irn's helmet.

"It's grittier," Irn answered, "More painful. When one fights the Snow people observance to lessons borne from brutal failure and harsh recovery become the determinants to the battle's outcome."

"Could not my people fight them for you?" Wren proposed.

"Part of me wouldn't wish that upon you," Irn said soothingly, "Another part, which I hesitate to say, very much desires that the conditions needed for the success of Jung warfare existed in the north." and then Irn dipped his head. "And I thank you for offering."

"I've heard that the Snow people are as big compared to Reg men as you are to me," Wren said looking up to Irn, as the knight stood.

"Sometimes even larger," Irn recalled, a flash of a battle causing a flinch in his features.

"I meant no discomfort to you, Sir Irn," Wren hastily said with his delicate hands raised to dark toned Reg knight.

"It's quite alright," Irn accepted and placed a fatherly hand on Wren's shoulder. "The offense is not yours. Alas, today's dress up is merely for parade purposes. Come of it, would you wish to stand beside me as I present myself to Lord Daros?"

"Do you mean that, Sir?" Wren's eyes lit up at the promise.

"Yes," Irn replied with a nod, "Daros much approves of dutiful performance regardless of one's station. Your conduct over these last two years as been exemplary. It makes me wish that peace didn't have to be paid through war with your ancestors."

"You honor me, Sir." Wren bowed and bolted off for his quarters.

Irn mulled over the hyper nature of the Jung people. Wren's sudden rush came without request for departure, but Irn learned to accept that without offense. In the far south, where Wren's people live, the time to react was much shorter. Dense tree growth and the immediacy of danger required rapid- sometimes impulsive decisions.

Suddenly, Irn felt a strange warmth up his right leg. It was from a war wound during the last campaign in the north. One of the Snow people warriors had broken Irn's leg using only his fist, after Irn had cleaved the monstrous man's mace in half. Irn was sure the surgeons would cut off his leg to spare the rest of him, but that proved unnecessary.

By the Grace of the Heavens, it was often said, Irn reflected, that his leg survived with him into the later battles. At strange times in the night, he'd feel a tingling in his leg, and on the morrow Irn found himself slightly more mobile than the prior day.

"Do I look presentable, Sir Irn?" Wren bid on exploded into view.

The Jung servant had traded his plain wool shirt and brown pants of Jung leather craft for the blue and bronze colored page uniform provided to him on being assigned to Sir Irn.

"Splendid indeed, Wren," Irn complimented and waved Wren to him, "Come, Lord Daros awaits us."

With his helmet underarm, Irn departed the armory with Wren at his side. Far above the castle and the skies beyond circled the ever-present Laser Integrated Operating Network. The warmed felt in Irn's leg was the heat generated from a burst transmission from the nanotech machines embedded into the right femur.

For many days after the fracture microscopic machines deposited themselves into the break, after surgeons had set Irn's leg. Others hasten the natural recovery process. Often, that involved targeted stimulation of the nerves to trigger specific muscle into spasms so fleeting as to escape Irn's notice, and yet trigger the body's reaction to the injury.

Irn's wound fully healed, the machines collated their final treatment report to L.I.O.N. in orbit before disbanding from the local where the bone break occurred and set on standby for the next medical need. As part of Intelligent Selective Evolution, L.I.O.N. determined Irn’s place in advancing empathy into the descendants of Homo sapiens.


End file.
